


Storm Winds

by The_Plaid_Slytherin



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Dragonstone, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Married Stannis Baratheon/Davos Seaworth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-02 11:50:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21161207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Plaid_Slytherin/pseuds/The_Plaid_Slytherin
Summary: Stannis arrives at his new seat with his new husband, but he does not feel content.





	Storm Winds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [greygerbil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/greygerbil/gifts).

Davos closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of the sea spray on his face. The sea would always be there for him, and he took solace in that, because he barely had control of his life on land. 

"There it is." Stannis hadn't spoken in a while, and he reminded Davos of the island they were approaching itself, swathed as he was in his dark oilskin, though he didn't dare voice this thought. "Our new home." 

"For a while," he said quietly, laying a hand on his new husband's arm. Stannis relaxed imperceptibly. "Your work is still in the capital."

"Aye." This didn't appear to comfort him either. Stannis' hands curled and uncurled around the railing of the ship. "We will have to visit Dragonstone occasionally; it _is_ ours."

Davos winced. The "gift" of Dragonstone had not been what Stannis wanted for his wedding; Davos could still see in his mind's eye how his bridegroom's shoulders had drooped and his jaw had moved as he'd knelt before his brother to accept the prize that was no prize at all. 

"It is the castle you won," Robert had said. "You and your husband will be very happy there."

What had been meant as a wedding blessing felt like a curse. 

Davos swallowed hard and watched the bulk of Dragonstone grow larger on the horizon. He would not let Stannis' hatred of it color their new marriage. He wished he could be confident of this.

**

It was raining as they rode up to the castle. Stannis did not pay any mind to the villagers who lined the way, looking at them. They had probably preferred Rhaegar Targaryen, and even if they didn't, they would never love Stannis. 

He lowered his head, feeling the rain beat down on it. An inauspicious way for his exile to begin.

Thunder rumbled and lightning flashed as his party approached the gates. Every available surface had been carved with dragons, a fact he hadn't had time to study when he'd been charging into the castle with his men only to find the young Targaryens gone. The resentment boiled up within him once more. 

"I'll be looking forward to getting into something dry," Davos said, swinging down from his mount and passing the reins to a stable boy. Stannis did the same. The roar of what they called the Stone Drum was almost deafening. 

_I can see why my Targaryen ancestors turned their eyes to Westeros_, he thought. 

He followed Davos toward the dragon's open mouth which marked the entrance to the hall. This castle was his now, and he would have to accept that. Not gladly, but he would have to be its lord. And Davos was his husband and would have to be treated with all the respect he was due. 

There were servants to greet them when they entered to take their wet cloaks, and Edigar Buckler, whom Stannis had left as castellan approached. Stannis listened to his report as they climbed the stairs.

"Is it always this loud?" Davos asked. 

"Yes, ser," said Buckler. "Though I can say your rooms are well-protected. Here on the stairs it is the noisiest." He led them through a heavy oak door and Stannis had to admit the sound was somewhat lessened now in the corridor. The tapestries still showed the Targaryens. _We must keep a few_, he thought, _as they were my forbears, but we must leave our own mark._ As they walked, he let his mind drift to having a tapestry commissioned to honor Davos. That would be a fine wedding gift, however late. 

"Your rooms, my lord," said the knight, indicating one door. "Ser Davos' are down this way." 

Davos' brown eyes darted uncertainly down to the door he pointed to. "My lord, am I to—" 

"Come with me." He put a hand on Davos' elbow. "That will be all, Buckler." 

Ser Edigar bowed and absented himself. He was a capable man, the good sort who could be left in charge here without worrying he would be slighted by not being invited to the wedding. 

Stannis winced at the memory of standing awkward beside Davos in the sept, everyone staring at him, the feast that followed where he had been bestowed with Dragonstone, the ordeal of the bedding where his humiliation had been doubled by the discovery of Robert and a court lady in the bed that was to have been theirs for the evening…

Perhaps that was why he'd fled to Dragonstone so quickly. 

Besides, it had not _all_ been bad. Davos had shown him a bit of what a wedding night should be on the ship, and he was looking forward to getting him into a real bed. 

Davos drew his attention with a hand on his arm, which made him shiver. He was still soaked from their ride, though he'd taken his cloak off. That had to be it. 

"My lord—" He moistened his lips, a gesture that went straight to Stannis' groin. "Shall I take those chambers?" 

"They are yours." 

Davos looked uncertain. 

"At least let us change," he said. "I'll have supper sent up." 

Davos went hesitantly down the corridor and into his own chambers. Surely they were fitting ones, Stannis thought; they had been Elia Martell's. 

Now Stannis pulled the door open and stepped into the rooms that had until recently been Rhaegar's. 

The bed was massive, no inch left uncarved. Stannis sighed. At least it was well made, as were the other furnishings. The dark wood suited him, though he would have the red drapes changed for gold. 

Perhaps some books would make it feel more like his…

No. A lightning flash illuminated the hulk of smoky mountain behind the castle. This would never be his.

**

Davos' rooms were much too large. What use did he have for three entire rooms? A sitting room, a bedroom, an entire room for bathing. 

Ridiculous.

His clothes had been put into the wardrobe, though he had few of them. Stannis had commissioned a new wardrobe for him before their wedding but aside from what he'd worn to be married in, it hadn't been finished before they'd left. Not for the first time, Davos supposed that Stannis' quick removal from the capital had something to do with him. 

He changed quickly into a clean tunic and breeches. The gold pin had been a wedding gift, in the shape of a stag, and he had a silk ribbon with which to bind his hair. He was hardly fit to be a high lord's husband. But it would have to do.

There was already a meal waiting when he went into Stannis' rooms. His stomach rumbled at the thought of hot food. 

"Do your rooms suit?" Stannis asked. It was the first thing he'd said since they'd started eating and Davos was surprised to hear him speak.

"Much too large—not that I don't appreciate them—but I know not what I'll do in them."

Stannis looked at him as though he'd said he didn't know what to do with his knife. "Sleep there. Dress there. Bathe there."

"Alone?" 

"When you wish to be."

Davos swallowed hard. He could see it would need to be said outright, and he wasn't sure how Stannis would take it. "All the married couples I know sleep in the same bed. All the time." 

"All the married couples I know sleep separately." 

Davos looked down at his plate. And, he supposed, Stannis had not envisioned them doing anything differently. "I see," he said. He retired after they'd eaten, dreading having to sleep alone in his giant bed.

**

Stannis was immediately angry with himself after Davos had left. Hadn't he been fantasizing about this since they'd docked? Wasn't there much more they could do in a bed rather than the cramped bunk of the ship's cabin they had indeed shared and shared to great effect?

Dragonstone seemed to have a dampening effect on his virility. 

He muttered every curse word he knew as he paced the room. The storm raging outside certainly matched his mood, and he slept little, tossing and turning beneath leering dragons' mouths.

**

Davos slept poorly. He had spent the entire night in the exact center of his boat of a bed, not sleeping well at all. 

"I would like to go for a walk," he told Stannis at a breakfast that seemed to be no warmer than last night's supper. 

"Certainly," Stannis said. "Everything on this island is yours."

That hadn't been quite what Davos had wanted to hear, but he set out after breakfast, walking briskly away from the castle. He wanted to explore the village they'd passed through only briefly the night before, which he could recall little of from their first time here when they'd taken the island in siege. 

It was a lovely little fishing village, and Davos felt very at home wandering its muddy streets, glad for his plain homespun which made him invisible. He was not at home in Stannis' world, but he felt very comfortable in the world of sailors and fishwives. 

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, he found himself growing hungry and thirsty. An inn seemed to appear in front of his path at exactly the right moment. 

It was pleasantly cozy inside, counteracting the chill of the wind which was heavy with unfallen rain. Davos stood a moment before the common fire before the innkeeper noticed him.

"Haven't seen you before. Sailor?"

"Yes," Davos answered automatically. "But I'll be living here for a while. My husband and I are up at the castle." 

"Ah, Baratheon men?"

"Yes." 

The innkeeper set a jug of ale on the bar. "Name's Ott. Have a drink on me and let your master know we appreciate him." He grinned. "Don't make any difference to us down here who rules up here. No offense to you and your husband, mind, but I expect you didn't choose Lord Stannis either."

"Well, I certainly did," Davos began, "or rather his brother—" 

"Yes, yes, our new king." Ott sobered. "Don't mistake us, we're very loyal to King Robert here. And Lord Stannis. So nothing to worry you about."

"We appreciate it." 

"Come, come." Ott waved him over to the bar. "I'll get you some stew. If you and your husband are going to be here serving Lord Stannis, I'll want you as customers." 

Davos froze as he reached for his mug. This man thought Davos' husband and Lord Stannis were separate people. Therefore he must have no idea that, as Stannis had said, everyone on this island was Davos'. Were Davos not himself of humble birth, he might have cause to be upset with some of the things the man had said.

No matter, he decided as he sipped his ale and dug into the delicious hot fishy stew which was accompanied by a generous hunk of crusty fresh bread. He would have a good meal and be on his way back to the castle with no awkwardness for his host. 

The door to the inn banged open. 

Both Davos and Ott turned. Stannis stood in the doorway, breathing with exertion. There was a collection of men-at-arms behind him. 

"Davos," he said. He swallowed hard. "I didn't know where you were." 

"I'm here." He turned to Ott. "My husband," he said sheepishly.

"Yes, another of Lord Stannis' men. A drink for you, too?" He reached for a mug.

"Water with lemon please," Stannis said. He cleared his throat. "And I _am_ Lord Stannis." 

Ott stared at him. "Well, then. Water with lemon and some stew for our new lord." 

Stannis sat next to Davos. He was quiet, then cleared his throat. "I was worried." 

Davos smiled. "You said everything on this island was mine. I was just seeing it for myself."

Stannis slipped an arm about his shoulders and pulled him close into his side. "I don't know what came over me, Davos, truly. I hate this place. I thought you must still be on the grounds but when they could not find you." He swallowed hard. "I thought there might still be Targaryen loyalists; I thought someone might take you." 

The thought had not crossed Davos' mind. He pressed a kiss to Stannis' cheek. "You had nothing to worry about."

"I know. And I am glad. I don't know what I would do if I lost you." He paused. "Davos, forgive me. My hatred for this place has clouded my judgement. I love you. " 

Davos took Stannis' hand, twining their fingers together. He felt his husband relax against his side. "I love you, too. You may not like this place, but I think I could grow to. And we can make it ours."

Stannis kissed him, slowly, teasingly, with an enticing hint of the heat that was to come later. "You may be right, Davos." His gaze turned to the stew and bread Ott had just set in front of him. 

"It's good," Davos said. 

Stannis reached for his spoon.

Behind them, Ott was bustling about the common room, serving the men who accompanied Stannis on his search for Davos. The wind whistled outside the inn. Stannis' long fingers still gripped Davos' shortened ones. Perhaps, though Davos, their marriage might not merely survive Dragonstone. Perhaps it would thrive because of it.


End file.
